If At First You Don't Succeed
by Halia Stone
Summary: It seems everyone has really bad timing or impatience issues in Mystic Falls, from annoying siblings to the latest big bad, and Klaus and Damon are getting sick of it; right up until they just don't care anymore. Or The Five Times Klaus and Damon were interrupted and the One Time they didn't care anymore.


**Are people still doing these anymore? Those five times + 1 things? Don't care if I'm late to the party, I wanted to do one! ****:) Let me know if you enjoyed it; add it to your follows if you want, but these are oneshots for a reason.**

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**1\. Elena**

Being interrupted seemed to be a constant problem for Klaus and Damon as of late; whether it was bad timing or people were just oblivious and impatient. It was happening so often Damon was regretting his decision to keep his... whatever the hell it was, with Klaus a secret. At least if people _knew_ they would at least give them five minutes.

However, as he was flat on his back, knees pushed up to his chest, and seeing stars from the pleasure coursing through his body as Klaus was fucking him, being interrupted was the furthest thing from his mind.

Until Elena's voice was calling for him downstairs:

"Damon!"

"Come on, we're gonna be late!" she added.

Damon cursed as he suddenly remembered he had agreed to go over to her house for dinner and a movie night with Stefan, Bonnie and Caroline; mainly so she would stop bugging him about it.

He wasn't sure who out of himself or Klaus growled under their breath in aggravation as Elena's footsteps coming up the stairs signaled an end to their tryst, Damon's arousal rushing away from him.

Reluctantly, they parted and Damon righted himself and set about picking his clothes up that were strung around the room (thank God for vampire speed). Luckily they were all in one piece for once.

"So, what are you ditching me for then?" Klaus asked as he rolled over onto his back, watching Damon with thinly-veiled amusement rush to get dressed, "It had better be epic," he added.

Damon snorted as he pulled his shirt over his head. "I wish," he said dryly.

He went over to his mirror and attempted to tame his thoroughly mussed hair into something less like a bird's nest. "I promised her I'd join this stupid Game Night thing they've started doing," he explained, and Klaus raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently it's not good to be holed up inside all day doing nothing," he added airily, shrugging to himself. _Who'd've thought it?_

"Well, I'd hardly call our actives nothing," Klaus said with a smirk.

"Yes, but they don't know about those, remember?" Damon pointed out with a knowing look, watching as after a sudden start he got up off his bed.

He must have heard Elena's approaching footsteps since he was gathering up his clothes. Damon often prided himself on being able to talk his way out of a lot of things, but a naked Klaus in his room would _not_ be one of them.

"Sorry," Damon apologized. Their relationship wasn't exactly conventional and was mostly a call and come—sometimes literally—type situation, yet for some reason he felt having to skip out on Klaus this time deserved an apology. Even if they had been interrupted plenty of times before, admittedly for nothing as mundane and boring as a game night.

(Damon was almost tempted to ask Elena if Klaus could come, just to see the look on everyone's faces.)

"No, no, prior commitments must be honored," Klaus said, waving him off.

Damon raised an eyebrow, he knew passive-aggressiveness with Klaus meant he was annoyed, just too stubborn to admit it, and would've opened his mouth to tease him about it, but Elena walked in. Without knocking.

"Damon, did you hear me, I said—" She halted in her tracks as she noticed he wasn't alone, and _Klaus_ of all people was with him. "What are you doing here?" she asked with a frown, at the same time looking a little wary of him.

"Borrowing my shower," Damon cut in quickly, before Klaus could have to scramble for an excuse or threaten her to keep schtum about it, "Liz told me about the Council's plan to put vervain in the water system and his doesn't have special filters yet," he lied.

Behind Elena's back, Klaus raised an eyebrow with a smirk. Thankfully, the fact Klaus was bone dry and clothed, not the least looking like he was about to get into a shower, didn't seem to cross her mind.

"Oookay?" Elena said slowly, eyes flitting from Damon to Klaus. Then she regained her perky demeanor and smiled at him. "Well, come on!" she said excitedly.

"Elena—"

"No, no," she cut him off sternly, pointing a finger in his face, "You are not bailing on me, if Stefan can suck it up for one night, so can you," she insisted.

And that was all she had to say on the matter, leaving Damon's room with a bright smile so he didn't have any time to formulate an argument.

"Good save," Klaus complimented, even if he did look a little bewildered.

"No need to make her eyes bulge out of their sockets before dinner," Damon said with a shrug, patting him on the shoulder and leaving his room.

"One of these days I'll just have you on the dining table right in front of her," Klaus said as a matter-of-fact. "That might do it," he added as an afterthought, Damon not even needing to be able to see the mischievous smirk on his face.

He hung back from leaving his room just to grin widely at him. "One of these days, Klaus, I might just let you."

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**2\. Kol**

It didn't even have to be their X-rated trysts that got interrupted; sometimes it was just a rare, quiet moment they had managed to steal between themselves.

"Ah, brother!" Kol called as he flung open the door to the mansion's expansive cloak room, causing them both to break away from each other, "Not interrupting anything I hope?" he asked nonchalantly as he strolled inside, rifling for one of his coats.

Klaus growled loudly, while Damon just looked thoroughly pissed off. "You have about five seconds before I tear your tongue from your head," he threatened.

Kol chuckled, unperturbed, as he pulled one of his coats off the rack. "So I was, then?" His eyes then flicked suggestively between the pair of them, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"My apologies," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but if you two will insist on frolicking in the cloak room like two horny teenagers when it's winter outside and people clearly need to wear coats to travel, I fear you're going to be interrupted a lot," he added with a sympathetic wince.

"Speaking from experience?" Damon asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kol just left the cloak room with a smirk. Klaus followed him through to the foyer, Damon trailing behind him, _not_ through with him yet. If he so much as breathed a word of this to anyone, he would end up back in a box quicker than he could blink.

He snickered when he saw them, not the least bit repentant. "Relegating yourselves to the bedroom?" he asked mischievously, "Good, it'll spare me the eyesore of witnessing whatever depravity you two had in a mind," he added with a needling look.

The latter made Damon roll his eyes to the heavens; Klaus was refraining from leaping on him and biting him just to watch him have a few unpleasant hours.

"Y'know, he isn't bad in the sack," Kol muttered under his breath with an appreciative look at Damon.

Klaus was so surprised at the remark he forgot to be angry—or jealous, if he cared to admit it to himself—but Damon was quicker to the jump than he was.

"I heard that!" he cried indignantly, although there was a brief look of discomfort across his face that Klaus was sure at first he imagined.

He narrowed his eyes, not liking whatever Kol was implying, and sped over and grabbed his brother by the throat, lifting him into the air. The smirk didn't even waver on his face.

"I didn't," Klaus said dangerously, feeling his fangs twitching in his gums, "Care to repeat it?" he added, deliberately making his eyes flash golden.

"Niklaus!"

Elijah's voice echoed in the spacious foyer. Klaus turned to see him at the top of the stairwell, surveying the scene with a look of mild annoyance.

"Release the poor boy," he continued as he descended the stairs, "I'm sure whatever he's done can't have incurred _that _much anger?" he asked in earnest.

Klaus just arched an eyebrow—he wasn't to know what had—and flung Kol in the direction of the nearest wall. Glass shattered as he crashed into a painting, knocked over a small table with a vase on top, and collapsed on the floor. The little shit just laid amongst the heap of shattered glass and broken wood cackling like a depraved lunatic.

"That's not what I meant," Elijah said, shaking his head in disbelief.

He rolled his eyes and disappeared into the living room, strangely having no qualms about Damon inexplicably—at least to him—being in their shared mansion. Lucky, really.

Klaus turned to Damon; his interest piqued. "What did Kol mean?"

Damon's face looked blank. "Huh?" After a sudden start, he gave him a once over. "Nothing," he said with a nonchalant shrug, but Klaus didn't miss the barely-there skip of his heart.

"Didn't sound like nothing," he pressed, raising his eyebrows.

Damon then rolled his eyes again, sighing begrudgingly. "Look, I'd just been turned, I needed to let off some steam," he said defensively, shrugging and holding his hands up to try and placate him.

"With my _brother?_" Klaus asked in utter disbelief. Kol had never mentioned being in Mystic Falls before? Or knowing Damon beforehand. Was Elijah now the only member of his family—alive, obviously—that Damon hadn't slept with.

"And how the fuck was I meant to know _that?_" Damon asked bluntly, "Besides, he flirted with me first," he insisted quickly, pointing an accusing finger at Kol.

The other vampire righted himself, dusting glass and wooden fragments off himself as he stood. "All right, I confess," he raised his hands in the same placating manner Damon did, "But fear not, dear brother, I didn't deflower your precious boyfriend," he reassured him.

"Deflower?" Damon repeated with raised eyebrows, spluttering at incredulous nature of his statement, "Dude—"

"I'll just leave the rest of the details up to your imagination," Kol chuckled, waving them both off and finally disappearing out the front door.

For the rest of the day, neither Klaus nor Damon spoke of the conversation that had transpired. However, at dinner, Rebekah had made some comments that made Klaus believe Kol had blabbed all to her; even Elijah was looking at him with mirth over his mashed potatoes.

Klaus didn't dignify either of them with a response, but if Kol ended up with a white oak dagger buried into his chest tomorrow? Well, that would just be an uncanny co-incidence.

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**3\. Jeremy**

So, if it wasn't sex or secret fumbling's in a goddamned cloak room that got interrupted, it was hunting. Admittedly, with the blood high Damon felt coursing through his veins, it could've very well turned X-rated.

_Could've_ being the operative word; in the midst of kissing each other senseless, they were forced to break apart as twigs snapping under a foot and the rustling of the undergrowth broke into the serene silence.

"I'm _this _close to starting a reparations fund for this," Damon grumbled, wiping the blood off his mouth with his sleeve.

He had half been expecting a set of unsuspecting campers, or even Stefan hunting for a bunny rabbit or some other woodland animal, but not Jeremy Gilbert of all people. Especially not holding a sketchbook.

"What are you two doing out here?" he asked with a frown as he caught sight of them.

Thankfully, Kol hadn't decided to herald the entirety of Mystic Falls with the news, and Rebekah and Elijah had obviously decided running afoul of Klaus about this wasn't worth it, so luckily Jeremy couldn't put two and two together as to what they had been doing.

And it just so happened the blood staining Damon's shirt presented a way out of it that didn't involve either of them breaking Jeremy's neck and making out over his corpse.

"Oh," he said softly, nodding slowly, "I thought you were drinking blood bags?" he asked with a confused frown, "Elena won't like it," he added, as if that held any merit.

"You prefer fresh food over frozen, so do we," Damon said simply, smirking at the brief flash of a disgusted look crossing Jeremy's face.

"And it might surprise you, Jeremy," Klaus interjected smoothly, "but we don't really care what Elena won't like," he added simply, shrugging. Damon could tell he was refraining from attacking the youngster.

"Since when are you guys hunting buddies?" he asked.

"Since my brother can't do it without going nuts, I'd never be able to stand Caroline's incessant blabbing, and Lockwood is a mangy mutt I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole," Damon said snidely, folding his arms.

"Whatever," Jeremy said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

He finally moved off to go and sketch whatever it was that had tickled his fancy all the way out here. Unfortunately, the buzz was gone and Damon just wanted to go sleep his satiated state off. Hunting was tiring work.

"It's a shame he's off-limits," Klaus remarked, momentarily looking the way Jeremy had gone, "Been a while I've had someone I can kill over and over again that isn't related to me," he said with a vicious smirk.

Damon privately agreed.

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**4\. Bonnie**

Klaus usually had the highest respect for witches and their craft, except for those that plotted against himself or his family. Oh, and those by the name of Bonnie Bennet that had _impeccable_ timing...

He had no idea how he was even standing in the Gilbert's kitchen to be in such a scenario in the first place, surprised that Damon's tongue was silver enough to convince Elena of all people—whom he had killed in a blood sacrifice—to let him come along to dinner. And all without revealing the true nature of their relationship to everyone present.

He was currently watching Damon put away the dirty dishes with a dishtowel slung over his shoulder; he was the first up to insist on clearing away the dishes—probably because he couldn't take looking at the Marianas trench-deep frown lines on Stefan's forehead any longer—and Klaus had gone with, if not to spare himself the awkward silences and stunted pauses.

"Housewife is a good look on you," he commented with a smirk as he watched Damon loading up the dishwasher with the used cutlery.

The way it slammed closed when the comment reached Damon's ears was none-too gentle. "Unless you have a ring in your back pocket you're planning on putting on my finger, don't ever call me that again," he threatened.

It took Klaus a solid five minutes to realize Damon was pointing a wooden spoon with pasta sauce remnants on it at him. "You're threatening me with a spoon?" he asked incredulously, chuckling.

Damon looked at the makeshift weapon, then back at him, shrugging.

Klaus rolled his eyes and walked over to where Damon was, closing the gap between them. Slowly curling his fingers around the spoon, he pushed it away and out of Damon's hands, pulling him towards him for a deep kiss.

But before they could, there was the unmistakable noise of footsteps; Damon swore under his breath and turned away.

"Hey," and enter Bonnie stage left, as he imagined Damon might have said, "Need some help with the dishes?" she asked, the two of them having broken away quick enough for her not to notice.

Klaus wiped away a bit of pasta sauce that had smeared on his cheek.

"Sure," Damon said, managing to disguise his annoyed smile. "The more the merrier," he added, but Klaus picked up almost instantly on the undertone of what he said.

He smacked him in the shoulder, narrowing his eyes. "Not in the way you're thinking, clearly," he added in a low voice so Bonnie couldn't hear him.

"Oh, come on, she's hot," he said in a hushed whisper, completely unabashed, "You're telling me you wouldn't go there?" he asked with a look of disbelief on his face.

"No, because I'd rather not have my eyeballs melted out of my head," Klaus stated simply.

"Okay, but if she _couldn't_ do that?" Damon asked curiously.

Klaus shook his head, refusing to bite. "Not even then."

Damon rolled his eyes with a faint smile and made to move over to help Bonnie get dessert, but Klaus reached out and grabbed his arm before he could.

"Because she's not you," he said sincerely.

Damon snorted as a smirk tugged at his lips; Klaus grinned back in response, getting the dishtowel on Damon's shoulder flung in his face. He pulled it off with a chuckle.

"Sap," Damon teased.

Bonnie just gave them both a weird look.

.

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**5\. Werewolf pack**

And incredibly, it wasn't just selective to one person ruining things between them; sometimes it was a collective 'people'.

It wasn't even the sound of people arriving—because really now, what sane person was out in the woods at _midnight?_—or a pain-in-the-ass sibling or friend, but a stench so foul Damon physically recoiled.

Klaus frowned at him, hands still on the lapel of his shirt. "What is it?" he asked curiously.

The disgusted noise was out of Damon's mouth as soon as he recognized the stink he hadn't had the misfortune of smelling for a while. "Who let the dogs out?" he remarked.

It took Klaus a while to figure out what he was talking about, but then his face became a similar look of annoyance to the one Damon was wearing.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" a female voice cooed at the pair of them.

Damon then saw about ten werewolves emerging from the trees, and they looked _pissed_. It wasn't just the kind of pissed that the territorial species war bought on, but the pissed look of someone out for blood. It was a look Damon knew all too well.

However, he was positive it wasn't on him this time. "Klaus, what did you do to these guys?" he demanded, rounding on him.

"Me?" he asked in disbelief, "What about _you?_" he retorted, poking him none-too-gently in the shoulder.

"You were the one that went on a hybrid turning spree," Damon reminded him.

Klaus snorted. "And you've been _such_ a saint to werewolves," he said in a sarcastic voice, "My bad," he shrugged.

"Remember me, Damon?" one of the men called over to him.

"Should I?" he called back, ignoring the _told-you-so_ look Klaus was giving him.

Damon focused on the man's face, cycling through all the potential possibilities as the man's face _did_ look somewhat familiar: a relative of Mason Lockwood? Friend of Tyler's? Friend of Ju— That was it, _now_ Damon recognized him.

It was one of the werewolves that had survived the massacre himself and Stefan had wrought to save Caroline from Jules—may that bitch be rotting in Hell for what she did to Rose—and later ambushed him at the boarding house. He certainly had more facial hair and was cleaner-looking, but Damon knew he was the vampire that had hidden under his hood like a scared little girl when Elijah had arrived to rescue him from hours of prolonged torture.

"Oh," he said simply, "Hey, how's it going? Stevie, right?" he asked, pretending to be oblivious as he gestured to him, "Long time, no see," he finished.

"Time enough for me to rebuild the pack you slaughtered," the man spat with a hateful glare at him.

"Hey, it was an eye-for-an-eye," Damon said with a blasé shrug, "You were torturing one of my friends, so I killed yours," he explained simply. Honestly, he thought Elijah's punch had killed the guy; apparently not.

"And just like then, it's not an even fight," he continued, "No full moon," he stated; it was a crescent moon, not even close to them having any enhanced power.

"There's only two of you," the same werewolf spoke up, "And I doubt you have a witch or an Original waiting in the wings this time," he added smugly, folding his arms.

"No," Damon agreed, nodding slowly. As the werewolves' smug look intensified, he added, "Just an Original _hybrid_," with a victorious smirk.

Even under the cover of darkness, the color draining out of the werewolves' faces was visible. Damon grinned as some of them tried to steel themselves, others pulling out weapons.

"Well, I kind of like the look of these odds," Klaus piped up with a disarming smile, surveying those around him, "How about you, Damon?" he asked.

Damon grinned. "Absolutely."

He had no idea what it was with werewolves being so arrogant as to think they could take on a vampire without the aid of the full moon, but at least this time he and Klaus got to unleash utter hell on those responsible for interrupting them without any repercussions.

As he decapitated one of the charging werewolves with a swift smack of his hand, Damon turned to Klaus, calling over to him:

"Hey, Klaus?"

The other man effortlessly flung two werewolves who had leapt on him to the ground with ease. "Yes?"

"This interruption epic enough for you?" Damon asked with an arched eyebrow.

Klaus chuckled and impaled two werewolves in the chests with the same crossbow bolt he flung at them.

.

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**+1 Elena (again) and Stefan**

Klaus' shirt was roughly pulled over his head as Damon yanked it off impatiently, his own hands going to the younger vampire's jeans, beginning to undo the buttons.

Rapid, rhythmic vibrating from Damon's pocket made him stop with a knowing look. Really now, this was just getting comical. He was sure there was some outside, cosmic force screwing with them at this point.

"Fuck," Damon growled lowly, his vampire visage briefly flashing across his face.

"How is that reparations fund coming?" Klaus asked lightly with a disbelieving laugh. They would be owed a small fortune by now if having their sex-life constantly interrupted legitimately counted towards them.

Damon huffed out a chuckle as he reached for his phone, a difficult task with Klaus on top of him, and an unfavorable look marred his face as he looked at the Caller I.D.

At the growl that came out of his mouth, Klaus had three guesses as to who it was this time.

"_What?_" he snapped angrily down the phone.

Klaus heard Elena wince—he knew it!—at the tetchiness of Damon's voice; "Jeez, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning," she teased.

"Elena, what do you want?" Damon demanded.

Klaus decided to tune Elena's reply out, fiddling with a few buttons of Damon's shirt. A mischievous grin crossed his face as an idea crossed his mind, giving Damon deliberate elevator eyes. He didn't catch on to what he was planning until he had already done it.

At the sensation of his hand touching Damon's erection, the younger man hissed and threw his head back onto the back of the armchair with a curse. "You _fucker_," he gasped.

Elena stopped talking on the other end of the phone. "Damon, are you okay?" she asked, sounding puzzled.

"Peachy," Damon said through gritted teeth; Klaus deliberately started to torturously move his hand up and down. "Can't this wait until later? It's the weekend; school's not even in session," he asked, his voice bordering on a plea.

"_No_, Damon," Elena insisted, "Weren't you the one just last week who said it'd be good to be prepared for these things for once?" she reminded him.

"Yeah, but—"

"Stefan and I'll be there in a bit," she said, ending the phone call.

Damon swore again, loudly, as he tossed his phone across the room. It bounced harmlessly onto the couch opposite them. "We'll have to make this quick," he said with an apologetic wince.

Klaus simply raised an eyebrow, a brilliant plan crossing his mind. "Or not."

And Damon was informed on exactly what his 'brilliant' plan was a moment later, when he was flat on his back on the dining table in the parlor not too far from the front entrance of the boarding house. It was just out of view behind a pillar; whoever walked in would get one hell of a surprise.

"Oh, you are evil," Damon laughed with an impressed look on his face once he realized that small fact.

The front door then opened and closed. "Damon?" Elena's voice called, "Where are you?"

"Well, if everyone insists on interrupting us they can at least let us finish just this once," Klaus said with an aimless shrug.

He didn't say more on the matter, just adjusted his angle inside Damon to hit a particular spot inside him that had him moaning loudly. He bit his lip to stifle the sound somewhat, and the sounds of footsteps and Elena and Stefan's chattering got closer and closer.

Until there was a loud yelp of surprise. "Oh my God!"

Klaus looked up to see Elena quickly shielding her eyes from the sight in front of her, whilst Stefan's mouth hung open. He stopped moving and just watched them with a smug smile, waiting for someone to break the silence.

As soon as Damon caught sight of their aghast faces, he barked out a laugh and couldn't stop himself from dissolving into cackles. "Ah, Elena, brother," he said with a jovial smile, turning right-side up as best he could, "I _did_ ask if this could wait until later," he said, looking at Elena pointedly.

She was reluctantly peeking through her fingers, before she threw her hand down to glare at the pair of them. "Forgive me for _this_"—she flapped her hands wildly—"scenario never crossing my mind as to why!" she screeched indignantly.

Damon was biting into his finger to try and stop the laughter, but it didn't help; he went off again as soon as he saw the absolutely puzzled look on Stefan's face. Klaus chuckled alongside him.

"And, of course, you think this is funny?" Elena asked him, bewildered and trying to force her eyes to remain strictly on his face.

"Extremely," Damon interjected gleefully, "Bet you'll think twice about interrupting us again," he added with certainty, pointing a warning finger at her.

"And to be more considerate of Damon's needs in the near future," Klaus pitched in.

"Well, excuse me for not thinking that sex with you on a dining table was one of them, Klaus," Elena retorted dryly, folding her arms.

"No, you're mistaken, it was one of mine," he informed her with a sly grin.

Elena practically choked on the air in response.

"Stefan, you're awfully quiet over there," Damon observed.

If it was possible, the youngest Salvatore frowned even deeper as he looked at them both in their precarious position.

"People eat on that table, Damon," he eventually said, his voice heavy and utterly tinged with disappointment as he shook his head.

"_Stefan!_" Elena cried indignantly.

"Well, Elena you're not the one that's going to have to try deep clean a vintage 1800's oak dining table," Stefan answered back in a very serious tone.

As he muttered, "Can you even deep clean a vintage 1800's oak dining table?" to himself, Klaus leaned down and whispered in Damon's ear:

"Not just the table..."

He snickered again, his eyes shining with mirth.

"No, I'm just going to have to deep clean my _brain_ after seeing this!" Elena growled, rubbing a hand over her face.

"Could've been worse," Klaus pointed out knowingly.

"No, I don't think it could've been," she insisted with a shake of her head.

"Well, I could've easily had him hanging from the ceiling," he continued, smiling brightly at her.

Elena's eyes blew to the size of saucers, even wider still when Damon winked at her. She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and rounded to Stefan.

"I..." She stopped, shaking her head in disbelief as she looked from them, then to Stefan, "you have no objection to this?" she wondered with a frown to rival his.

"I'm a big boy, Elena, I can handle myself," Damon said airily, waving her off dismissively.

"Yeah, I can see that," she snapped.

Damon snorted. "Believe me, not from that angle you can't," he muttered, Elena looking utterly scandalized at the thought.

Stefan unfolded his arms. "What I'm objecting to is them subjecting a poor, innocent table to their twisted fantasies, Elena," he said after giving the situation a through once-over.

(Well, as thorough as one would look at a situation involving ones naked sibling on top of a dining table)

"Don't give us 'twisted', Stefan," Damon interjected, defensively, pointing a finger at him, "I know damn well what you keep hidden in your underwear drawer, and I'm not talking about another diary, young man!" he added with a knowing look.

Stefan started to flush red and looked about ready to argue back, but Elena's cry of, "Alright!" stopped him in his tracks.

Elena looked honestly traumatized; Klaus almost felt bad, but he was just sick of being interrupted, "Just—" She paused, unsure of what to say, "We'll be waiting upstairs for you two to do..."

"Each other?" Damon supplied helpfully into her uneasy silence with a cheeky smile.

Elena just let out a frustrated and horrified squeak, grabbing Stefan by the wrist and stomping up the stairs with him in tow, muttering about "goddamned, Damon," as she went. Klaus chuckled.

"Think they got the message?" he wondered, looking down at Damon with a smirk.

"Oh yeah," he replied; those laugh lines seemed permanently engraved into his face in that moment.

Klaus huffed out a breathy laugh himself, pushing Damon's hair out of his eyes.

"Wanna finish?" he asked with a bright smile.

Klaus grinned at him.


End file.
